Oh, Money! Money! A Novel

  CHAPTER XXIV

  THAT MISERABLE MONEY

  In the evening, after the Martin girls had gone to their rooms, MissMaggie and Mr. Smith faced the thing squarely.

  "Of course," he began with a sigh, "I'm really not out of the woods atall. Blissfully happy as I am, I'm really deeper in the woods thanever, for now I've got you there with me, to look out for. Howeversuccessfully John Smith might dematerialize into nothingness--MaggieDuff can't."

  "No, I know she can't," admitted Miss Maggie soberly.

  "Yet if she marries John Smith she'll have to--and if she doesn't marryhim, how's Stanley G. Fulton going to do his courting? He can't comehere."

  "But he must!" Miss Maggie looked up with startled eyes. "Why, Mr.Smith, you'll HAVE to tell them--who you are. You'll have to tell themright away."

  The man made a playfully wry face.

  "I shall be glad," he observed, "when I shan't have to be held off atthe end of a 'Mr.'! However, we'll let that pass--until we settle theother matter. Have you given any thought as to HOW I'm going to tellCousin Frank and Cousin James and Cousin Flora that I am Stanley G.Fulton?"

  "No--except that you must do it," she answered decidedly. "I don'tthink you ought to deceive them another minute--not another minute."

  "Hm-m." Mr. Smith's eyes grew reflective. "And had you thought--as towhat would happen when I did tell them?"

  "Why, n-no, not particularly, except that--that they naturally wouldn'tlike it, at first, and that you'd have to explain--just as you did tome--why you did it."

  "And do you think they'll like it any better--when I do explain? Think!"

  Miss Maggie meditated; then, a little tremulously she drew in herbreath. She lifted startled eyes to his face.

  "Why, you'd have to tell them that--that you did it for a test,wouldn't you?"

  "If I told the truth--yes."

  "And they'd know--they couldn't help knowing--that they had failed tomeet it adequately."

  "Yes. And would that help matters any--make things any happier, allaround?"

  "No--oh, no," she frowned despairingly.

  "Would it do anybody any REAL good, now? Think of that."

  "N-no," she admitted reluctantly, "except that--that you'd be doingright."

  "But WOULD I be doing right? And another thing--aside from themortification, dismay, and anger of my good cousins, have you thoughtwhat I'd be bringing on you?"

  "ME!"

  "Yes. In less than half a dozen hours after the Blaisdells knew thatMr. John Smith was Stanley G. Fulton, Hillerton would know it. And inless than half a dozen more hours, Boston, New York, Chicago,--to saynothing of a dozen lesser cities,--would know it--if there didn'thappen to be anything bigger on foot. Headlines an inch high wouldproclaim the discovery of the missing Stanley G. Fulton, and the fineprint below would tell everything that happened, and a great deal thatdidn't happen, in the carrying-out of the eccentric multi-millionaire'sextraordinary scheme of testing his relatives with a hundred thousanddollars apiece to find a suitable heir. Your picture would adorn thefront page of the yellowest of yellow journals, and--"

  "MY picture! Oh, no, no!" gasped Miss Maggie.

  "Oh, yes, yes," smiled the man imperturbably. "You'll be in it, too.Aren't you the affianced bride of Mr. Stanley G. Fulton? I can see themnow: 'In Search of an Heir and Finds a Wife.'--'Charming Miss MaggieDuff Falls in Love with Plain John Smith,' and--"

  "Oh, no, no," moaned Miss Maggie, shrinking back as if already thelurid headlines were staring her in the face.

  Mr. Smith laughed.

  "Oh, well, it might not be so bad as that, of course. But you never cantell. Undoubtedly there are elements for a pretty good story in thecase, and some man, with nothing more important to write up, is boundto make the most of it somewhere. Then other papers will copy. There'ssure to be unpleasant publicity, my dear, if the truth once leaks out."

  "But what--what HAD you planned to do?" she faltered, shuddering again.

  "Well, I HAD planned something like this: pretty quick, now, Mr. Smithwas to announce the completion of his Blaisdell data, and, withproperly grateful farewells, take his departure from Hillerton. Hewould go to South America. There he would go inland on some sort of asimple expedition with a few native guides and carriers, but no othercompanion. Somewhere in the wilderness he would shed his beard and hisname, and would emerge in his proper person of Stanley G. Fulton andpromptly take passage for the States. Of course, upon the arrival inChicago of Mr. Stanley G. Fulton, there would be a slight flurry at hisappearance, and a few references to the hundred-thousand-dollar giftsto the Eastern relatives, and sundry speculations as to the why and howof the exploring trip. There would be various rumors and allegedinterviews; but Mr. Stanley G. Fulton never was noted for hiscommunicativeness, and, after a very short time, the whole thing wouldbe dismissed as probably another of the gentleman's well-knowneccentricities. And there it would end."

  "Oh, I see," murmured Miss Maggie, in very evident relief. "That wouldbe better--in some ways; only it does seem terrible not to--to tellthem who you are."

  "But we have just proved that to do that wouldn't bring happinessanywhere, and would bring misery everywhere, haven't we?"

  "Y-yes."

  "Then why do it?--particularly as by not doing it I am not defraudinganybody in the least. No; that part isn't worrying me a bit now--butthere is one point that does worry me very much."

  "What do you mean? What is it?"

  "Yourself. My scheme gets Stanley G. Fulton back to life and Chicagovery nicely; but it doesn't get Maggie Duff there worth a cent! MaggieDuff can't marry Mr. John Smith in Hillerton and arrive in Chicago asthe wife of Stanley G. Fulton, can she?"

  "N-no, but he--he can come back and get her--if he wants her." MissMaggie blushed.

  "If he wants her, indeed!" (Miss Maggie blushed all the more at themethod and the fervor of Mr. Smith's answer to this.) "Come back as Mr.Stanley G. Fulton, you mean?" went on Mr. Smith, smiling at MissMaggie's hurried efforts to smooth her ruffled hair. "Too risky, mydear! He'd look altogether too much like--like Mr. John Smith."

  "But your beard will be gone--I wonder how I shall like you without abeard." She eyed him critically.

  Mr. Smith laughed and threw up his hands with a doleful shrug.

  "That's what comes of courting as one man and marrying as another," hegroaned. Then, sternly: "I'll warn you right now, Maggie Duff, thatStanley G. Fulton is going to be awfully jealous of John Smith if youdon't look out."

  "He should have thought of that before," retorted Miss Maggie, her eyesmischievous. "But, tell me, wouldn't you EVER dare to come--in yourproper person?"

  "Never!--or, at least, not for some time. The beard would be gone, tobe sure; but there'd be all the rest to tattle--eyes, voice, size,manner, walk--everything; and smoked glasses couldn't cover all that,you know. Besides, glasses would be taboo, anyway. They'd only resultin making me look more like John Smith than ever. John Smith, youremember, wore smoked glasses for some time to hide Mr. Stanley G.Fulton from the ubiquitous reporter. No, Mr. Stanley G. Fulton can'tcome to Hillerton. So, as Mahomet can't go to the mountain, themountain must come to Mahomet."

  "Meaning--?" Miss Maggie's eyes were growing dangerously mutinous.

  "That you will have to come to Chicago--yes."

  "And court you? No, sir--thank you!"

  Mr. Smith chuckled softly.

  "I love you with your head tilted that way." (Miss Maggie promptlytilted it the other.) "Or that, either, for that matter," continued Mr.Smith genially. "However, speaking of courting--Mr. Fulton will dothat, all right, and endeavor to leave nothing lacking, either as toquantity or quality. Think, now. Don't you know any one in Chicago?Haven't you got some friend that you can visit?"

  "No!" Miss Maggie's answer was prompt and emphatic--too prompt and tooemphatic for unquestioning acceptance.

  "Oh, yes, you have," asserted the man cheerfully. "I don't know hername--but she's there. She's Waving a red flag from your face thi
sminute! Now, listen. Well, turn your head away, if you like--if you canlisten better that way," he went on tranquilly paying no attention toher little gasp. "Well, all you have to do is to write the lady you'recoming, and go. Never mind who she is--Mr. Stanley G. Fulton will finda way to meet her. Trust him for that! Then he'll call and meetyou--and be so pleased to see you! The rest will be easy. There'll be aregular whirlwind courtship then--calls, dinners, theaters, candy,books, flowers! Then Mr. Stanley G. Fulton will propose marriage.You'll be immensely surprised, of course, but you'll accept. Then we'llget married," he finished with a deep sigh of satisfaction.

  "MR. SMITH!" ejaculated Miss Maggie faintly.

  "Say, CAN'T you call me anything--" he began wrathfully, butinterrupted himself. "However, it's better that you don't, after all.Because I've got to be 'Mr. Smith' as long as I stay here. But you waittill you meet Mr. Stanley G. Fulton in Chicago! Now, what's her name,and where does she live?"

  Miss Maggie laughed in spite of herself, as she said severely: "Hername, indeed! I'm afraid Mr. Stanley G. Fulton is so in the habit ofhaving his own way that he forgets he is still Mr. John Smith. However,there IS an old schoolmate," she acknowledged demurely.

  "Of course there is! Now, write her at once, and tell her you'recoming."

  "But she--she may not be there."

  "Then get her there. She's GOT to be there. And, listen. I think you'dbetter plan to go pretty soon after I go to South America. Then you canbe there when Mr. Stanley G. Fulton arrives in Chicago and can writethe news back here to Hillerton. Oh, they'll get it in the papers, intime, of course; but I think it had better come from you first. Yousee--the reappearance on this earth of Mr. Stanley G. Fulton is goingto be of--of some moment to them, you know. There is Mrs. Hattie, forinstance, who is counting on the rest of the money next November."

  "Yes, I know, it will mean a good deal to them, of course. Still, Idon't believe Hattie is really expecting the money. At any rate, shehasn't said anything about it very lately--perhaps because she's beentoo busy bemoaning the pass the present money has brought them to."

  "Yes, I know," frowned Mr. Smith, with a gloomy sigh. "That miserablemoney!"

  "No, no--I didn't mean to bring that up," apologized Miss Maggiequickly, with an apprehensive glance into his face. "And it wasn'tmiserable money a bit! Besides, Hattie has--has learned her lesson, I'msure, and she'll do altogether differently in the new home. But, Mr.Smith, am I never to--to come back here? Can't we come back--ever?"

  "Indeed we can--some time, by and by, when all this has blown over, andthey've forgotten how Mr. Smith looks. We can come back then.Meanwhile, you can come alone--a VERY little. I shan't let you leave mevery much. But I understand; you'll have to come to see your friends.Besides, there are all those playgrounds for the babies and cleanermilk for the streets, and--"

  "Cleaner milk for the streets, indeed!"

  "Eh? What? Oh, yes, it WAS the milk for the babies, wasn't it?" heteased. "Well, however that may be you'll have to come back tosuperintend all those things you've been wanting to do so long.But"--his face grew a little wistful--"you don't want to spend too muchtime here. You know--Chicago has a few babies that need cleaner milk."

  "Yes, I know, I know!" Her face grew softly luminous as it had grownearlier in the afternoon.

  "So you can bestow some of your charity there; and--"

  "It isn't charity," she interrupted with suddenly flashing eyes. "Oh,how I hate that word--the way it's used, I mean. Of course, the realcharity means love. Love, indeed! I suppose it was LOVE that made JohnDaly give one hundred dollars to the Pension Fund Fair--after he'djewed it out of those poor girls behind his counters! And Mrs. Morsewent around everywhere telling how kind dear Mr. Daly was to give somuch to charity! CHARITY! Nobody wants charity--except a few lazyrascals like those beggars of Flora's! But we all want our RIGHTS. Andif half the world gave the other half its rights there wouldn't BE anycharity, I believe."

  "Dear, dear! What have we here? A rabid little Socialist?" Mr. Smithheld up both hands in mock terror. "I shall be petitioning her for mybread and butter, yet!"

  "Nonsense! But, honestly, Mr. Smith, when I think of all thatmoney"--her eyes began to shine again--"and of what we can do with it,I--I just can't believe it's so!"

  "But you aren't expecting that twenty millions are going to right allthe wrongs in the world, are you?" Mr. Smith's eyes were quizzical.

  "No, oh, no; but we can help SOME that we know about. But it isn't thatI just want to GIVE, you know. We must get behind things--to thecauses. We must--"

  "We must make the Mr. Dalys pay more to their girls before they payanything to pension funds, eh?" laughed Mr. Smith, as Miss Maggie cameto a breathless pause.

  "Exactly!" nodded Miss Maggie earnestly. "Oh, can't you SEE what we cando--with that twenty million dollars?"

  Mr. Smith, his gaze on Miss Maggie's flushed cheeks and shining eyes,smiled tenderly. Then with mock severity he frowned.

  "I see--that I'm being married for my money--after all!" he scolded.

  "Pooh!" sniffed Miss Maggie, so altogether bewitchingly that Mr. Smithgave her a rapturous kiss.